Dreaming of Ours
by Vintage Vine
Summary: I had to repost this.. Accidently deleated it. :' Here it is again. Wanda/Ian fluff. Enjoy!
1. Our Agreement

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns the following characters. I do not make a profit from this.

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Wanda laid down on the mattress next to Jamie, unbelievably pale in the cave darkness. Just by the few lamps illuminating the game room, I could clearly see her blush. This was our fourth night here during the rains, and the closeness of our soon-to-be sleeping forms still hadn't settled right with her. Also, her new body was prone to have a constant blush painted on her beautiful and delicate features.

I took her hand and pulled lightly. She rolled onto her side so she could face me. Smiling, I kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Wanda," I whispered.

She blushed harder—was that- in the slightest- possible? "Goodnight, Ian. Sleep well." Her voice quivered as she spoke my name.

I closed my eyes, hoping a peaceful sleep would come. Instead, moments later, I felt a slight tugging on my arm. I looked to Wanda, who lay watching me, an intent look of innocence in her silvery eyes.

"What's wrong, Wanda?" I felt her hand grip mine and squeezed it gently.

"Nothing, Ian…"

"You're lying." I knew she was the most atrocious liar in the history of humankind. One simply couldn't call her human for her unbelievably failed attempts.

Defense crossed over her lovely features, and she rolled her eyes—possibly a leftover reaction from her time spent in Melanie's body; surely her soul-nature wasn't accustomed to such impolite actions.

"Wanda, please, tell me. You can tell me anything. You know that." Well, she _should_ know that.

"It's nothing you should be worried about, Ian."

So it _is_ something. Just what? "Wanda, you know I can't ignore it now that I know there's something you're keeping from me. And I'll just assume the worst the longer you keep quiet." My threat made her flinch, and she gradually crumbled, sighing in defeat.

"Alright, Ian. For days now, I've been sleeping and waking up, startled by a sudden realization: Pet was once an artist. In not only this host, but others, too." Wanda sighed, struggling to continue. "I was dreaming, and there were memories of some of her—our—artwork. Some were absolutely beautiful. I just wanted you to see a glimpse of how extraordinary her hands were—are—with a brush and some canvas." She shrugged, letting the subject go.

I wouldn't let her. How could I? She would now have something to do other than bombard us with pleas for work in the fields- something I wouldn't let happen.

Then I realized what she'd said about her body. "Wanda, they're your hands now. Don't speak as if you still think of yourself as a parasite. You're not. Please, just believe me when I say you are _you_, and you're right where you are needed."

She didn't answer, just leaned in and buried her face into my chest. I pulled her hand closer to my lips and kiss it lightly. "You wouldn't happen to have raided of few utensils, huh, Wanda?"

"Actually, I did," she whispered softly, almost inaudible.

Increasing joy was slowly weaving into my content system. How had I even thought of sleeping moments before? Now that she had my attention—well, she always did—I just couldn't think of letting it go. "And have you… put them to use…?"

She stiffened, then giggled lightly. "Actually, I have." By her laughing frame, she was utterly enjoying this. I was glad to have made this such a fun experience for her. Naturally, I'm glad to do anything to her the tinkling bell sound of her laugh.

But this still didn't sit right with me. "If you're so giggly about teasing me, then why did I have to pry it out of you?"

All at once, the giggling and the shaking stopped. Wanda stared at me for a second, then averted her gaze to Jamie, who lay motionless beside her. She wouldn't look at me, so I softly pulled on her chin so I could see her eyes. As always, they cast a beautiful glow, with or without light. With all their silvery grandeur, Wanda's eyes seemed sad, sorrowful, even.

"Wanda? Honey?" I tightened my arms around her, emphasizing my understanding.

"Oh, Ian." Her voice came out muffled, and I felt my t-shirt become drenched. Was she crying? Why?

"Wanda?" I instantly became alert, knowing there was much more she wasn't telling me. I leaned away from her, holding her at arm's length. "Honey, why are you crying?"

She shook her head and pointed to my chest. I smiled, not following, just assuming, and held her once again to me. She nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck and shoulder, sighing contentedly.

She fell asleep, ending our discussion for now. And it wasn't long before I heard her whimpering and muttering in her sleep.

"Wanda. Shh. It's okay, sweetie. You were dreaming." I sat her in my lap, rubbing her back and soothing in vague reassurances.

"Ian…" Her hushed whisper came out like another soft cry.

"Shh, Wanda, please don't be sad. Why don't you tell me what you dreamed?"

Now that I knew she was more alert, I kissed her cheek softly, promising that I could wait for her to answer.

Remarkably, she did. To an extent.

"You don't want to know, Ian. It'll make you angry. Mad at me." She began to sob, trying hard to force herself to stop, in case she woke the others in the game room.

Seeing her _this_ somber did me in, too, of course. I silently shed a tear, for fear of hurting her feelings. How could she think me as angry with her? It was beyond me. Literally. Didn't she know what unconditional love was? Obviously, I'd have to educate her later on the matter.

"Ian, I want to tell you. I do. But you won't want me. You won't." She cried louder, and I knew what had to be done. I laced my arms beneath knees and arms, lifting her up and carrying her away. Rain or no rains, she needed some space. Especially if she woke the others. Jamie would be irritable tomorrow, but he would understand.

I walked along the caverns, careful of the puddles of water. Wanda didn't seem coherent, nor did she fully comprehend what was happening. I calmed her by kissing her softly on the lips, silencing her silly mutterings.

She realized my plan, and shot me a look of worry.

"Just to our room, sweetie." I kissed her forehead once more and rounded the corner to our room. I gently laid her on her feet, moved the red door, and guided her in. It was then that I realized our mattresses were still in the game room. No use getting them now, since by morning they could be damp from all this musty weather.

Wanda curled into a ball, somehow managing to look smaller than her already tiny form. Her curly blonde hair hung in wavy locks to her hips, forming a curtain around herself. I kneeled beside her on the floor, more than eager to be her comfort from the cold, hard floor. She released her knees and wrapped her arms around my neck when I brushed a piece of golden silk away from her face.

"Explain, please," I whispered against her ear. She hugged me tighter.

"I'm scared to, Ian." Her grasp didn't lessen on my neck.

"Wanda, you must realize that I can't physically or mentally be angry with you. Not ever."

She quieted down a moment, then silenced all together. "You really want to know? Even if you'll be angry?"

I tried to explain it once more that that wasn't possible, but she silenced me with her fingers pressed to my lips.

"I'll show you…Come on." She let her fingers fall and made a grab for my wrist. She stood, trying to pull me up with her. No chance in her petite body would she ever have the strength to lift me from my position on the floor. Before she could dislodge her shoulder, I gradually stood and lifted her into my arms. At first, she protested, then thought better of it and leaned into me.

"Go the storage units. I hid them from you…" She cried again, but this time without the loud sobs. The tears simply rolled off her cheeks and onto her shirt.

The sight of her like this drove me crazy. I nearly flew down the corridors just to see what could possibly make her so miserable.

"Ian?" she whimpered about hallway there.

"Yes, Wanda?"

"Just remember that I want them to be ignored. You can see my artwork, but I don't want you to think anything of them. Could you do that for me, please?"

I couldn't understand what she was asking me. She saw the confusion on my face and was cast into another sob fest, clinging to my neck and choking out uneven breaths. I needed to know what was causing this anxiety for my Wanderer. And fast.

Finally, she told me it was her hole; the unit she was kept in at the beginning. I set her on her feet and she numbly walked to the hole. I didn't like to see her in it then, and I surely didn't like it now. The thought of me actually having a part in _that _decision still shook me with guilt. I waited for her to bring out the first of many canvases stored in the unit.

What shocked me most was the usage of bright blue. On the canvas was the image of an…infant? Why had Wanda painted something so out of character? But it wasn't _just_ an infant; the skin was exquisitely pale with just a hint of silver traces. The tuft of hair was pitch black, much in contrast to its ivory skin. And the most beautiful feature was the eyes. The irises were a shockingly sapphire blue with a slight silver ring around the pupil. I gasped, and my knees buckled.

"Ian!" Wanda dropped the painting and flung her arms around me. I took no notice of her; just stared at the painting lying on the floor, wishing there were more like it in the storage unit. I could feel a smile spread across my face as realization hit. Wanda was fantasizing over a baby. And not just any baby, but _ my_ child. The thought sent shivers down my spine, and I slid my arms around her.

"You're not upset?" I could hear the disbelief in her voice, and I felt the need to assure her.

"Of course I'm not upset! Wanda! How could you have kept this a secret? And for so long?" I smiled, too relieved that she felt _that_ way about me. I knew I loved her, but what better way could she prove her love than to show me a simple painting?

She heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness," she laughed, then stopped, abruptly. "You won't think anything of them, will you?"

"Wanda, you're being silly." How could I not? She obviously didn't want to address the matter to me in fear of rushing me. It _should _ have been obvious that I didn't mind what pace we were to go. I would wait forever for her if that was her wish.

She groaned. "Ian, I love you. And yes, I've dreamed of babies like these, but that doesn't mean we should…_ act_… by them. I was only letting my imagination get the better of me. I mean, how beautiful would it be to have a little toddler wander around these caves with startling blue eyes and black hair…" Her eyes became distant and she let herself think and daydream. I was too stunned to do anything more than hold her and stare at the painting.

After a long moment, she pulled back and finally had the courage to look into my eyes. "I love you, too." I smiled, trying to assure her that I'm rather ecstatic, not angry, as she'd previously assumed.

"Ian, maybe someday—"

"Of course, Wanda. Whatever you want." I gently pulled away from her, regretting it slightly as I saw the look of hurt in her eyes. I winked and went to the entrance to the hole.

There were at least a dozen canvases—small, large, square, rectangle—and each once consisted of a baby that carried my exact phenotypes—the black hair, the ivory skin, the sapphire blue eyes. And then I could see small traces of my beautiful Wanderer—the silver ring of iris only a soul could possess the hint of a shiny aura that glowed amongst the skin.

One painting stood out the most though; it was the same child in the arms of… Me? Me! Wanda had visualized, or dreamed, of me holding our imaginary child. I couldn't describe the feeling that washed over me. It was the most satisfying concoction of joy, content, bliss, happiness, and love.

I stroked the canvas with light fingers. It was so luxuriously crafted that I wanted everyone in the caves to see it. But when I turned to Wanda, she shot me a sheepish smile, embarrassed; she didn't want people to know of her 'dreams', whether they be metaphorical or literal. And I would respect her wishes, whatever they may be.

"Wanda, would you like to try and sleep again?" I knew she must've been tired; she'd been up nearly half the night with me, crying, pleading for some sort of understanding from me.

She nodded, and brought the first painting to me to place back in the safety of the hole.

She held out her arms, implying that she wanted me to hold her, to carry her. Happy to oblige, I scooped her small form into my arms and made way for the game room. Sometime along the way, her eyelids drooped shut, and her hold on my neck went slack. Sleep conquered her, and before I had fully rested my head on my pillow, it had me, too.

That night, what was left of it, I dreamt of little babies that looked like me and Wanda. I dreamed of Wanda caring for them, then me with my arms around them, much like how I hold my Wanderer now.

And someday, our dreams together can possibly make them a reality. But for now, we would be content with just those dreams.

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**Author's Note:** This was written with a new record for me. Nearly a mere thirty minutes! To be honest, I'm kind of proud. I hope it shows. This is just a little Wanda and Ian Fluff. I tried not to be too...forward about the point..considering the fact that I've been breathing and walking for only fourteen years.. ;)

Enjoy! Read? Review? Your choice.


	2. Our Understanding

Wanda seemed distant. Not different, just quieter, more subtle. She continued to show me her various paintings and sketches, but with less enthusiasm. I hoped she wasn't rethinking our soft-spoken agreement; it had been months since she spoke of it again, she was just persistent when showing me her novelties.

Jared looked over his shoulder. I knew what was coming; Wanda and Mel would return with soaking hair and damp towels, just returning from the bathing rooms. Since Wanda had been participating in the raids, she'd added regular soap to the list; something many of us were all too willing to encourage. And the soap she picked... Smelled of vanilla. I think it had 'bean' in the title.

"Jared, what do you think of children?" My question was so sudden, so unexpected. I smiled inwardly at his repulsed expression.

"Why do you ask, Ian?" Jared looked at me inquiringly, but before he could prod for more, both Wanda and Melanie walked in, strutting all their wet, dripping glory. I watched Wanda shiver, lock eyes with me, and blush fiercely. I loved how in the beginning, she was almost always overruled by Melanie's old emotions, causing her to only be overwhelmed by Jared's presence. Now, being her own person, I'm in love with the concept of Wanda having no ties to him. That she loves me, and only me.

Melanie pranced to Jared's side, kissing him on the cheek before settling for dinner. On cue, (it was now an established tradition), I slid Wanda into my lap as she took a small nibble on a piece of bread.

I smoothed and combed her hair, hoping for a good reaction; instead, I received a stranger response. Wanda slid further into me and twisted so that she could kiss my cheek. She hadn't really touched me in a few days, and I felt the need to grant her whatever space she wanted. Her lips trailed up my cheek to my ear and kissed it once before pulling back slightly. "Can I work the fields tomorrow?" she whispered.

I leaned away so that I could look at her eyes. Penetrating. How could _anyone_ deny such innocent beauty? Easy. Since it's a rather known fact that she can't handle such hard conditions- weeding, manning the picks and shovels— we each offer her something less extreme, such as kneading the bread dough, or making the skin-biting soap. And even _that_ didn't sit right with me.

I brought her back to me, nuzzling my face into the nook of her shoulder and neck. "No, Wanda. How about you help Trudy with the dishes after breakfast?" I looked at her face, happy she didn't take too much offense. Her bottom lip jutted out, indicating the oncoming 'puppy' face- something Kyle did excessively long ago, when the earth was once considered the only life source and we humans weren't deprived of our minds.

"Please, Ian? Please? Trudy already has Lily helping her. I want to do something for the greater good of our community. The fields need as many workers as possible, and with the resistance growing, we need the fields ready in time for harvesting." She paused, gauging my expression.

"Wanda…" How did Wanda mentally handle denial? Was there some processor that informed her how to cope? Obviously it told her to persist incessantly.

"Please, Ian?"

I looked to Mel. She cared for Wanda almost as much as me, and surely she would agree with me on this. To my horrific surprise, she shrugged. "Ian, we can't limit her like this. Maybe if she promised to tell us if something was wrong…"

I groaned. We've done _that _before. Wanda promised, but each time, she stifled the throbs of pain and hurried to finish, and off to bed she went, leaving us feeling horrible for allowing the labor.

"She's right, you know," Jared spoke up. "Wanda has a choice, and what she chooses can't be insinuated by our suggestions or worries."

Wanda smiled at him. "Thank you. Ian?" Before I could answer, I felt her shudder in my grip. Just slightly so that you could tell only if you had been touching her. She smiled anyway, hoping I didn't notice. I acted as so, knowing I'd ambush her tonight about it.

Placing my hand on her forearm, I brushed it from her wrist to the crease in her elbow. "Wanda, would you please not fight this way? It's not fair; you're gaining up on me with two people whose opinions aren't taken lightly. Ever. How is that fair play?"

She grinned, knowing she'd already one. "It isn't. I _am_ human, right? Since when did humans ever fight fair?"

"Never, you clever, misguided Wanderer. How can reverse-phycology come so naturally to you? However subtle you say it."

The grin grew wider, forming a shiny smile. "Hmm. Well, being in Mel's mind for nearly a year can give you a few insights on human interaction. I suppose she rubbed off on me. Permanently. So deal." She fidgeted once again, and I felt the need to call her on it. Was she in pain? Uncomfortable?

"Jared, can't you see the dangers in this?" I asked, serious once again.

"Of course, Ian. But it _is _her choice. It's _her_ body. I think she's more than capable to make her own decisions. And if anything happened to her, surely Doc could fix."

"Melanie?"

"Shut up, Ian. Let her do what she wants. Seems she already has you bowing down to her every will. That selflessness has long worn away, right Wanda?"

Wanda shook her head. "No, others first. Always."

Melanie sighed. "Of course they are, sis. 'Course they are…" She finished with stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth.

"May I, Ian? I want to help."

I couldn't take it anymore. My will to keep her safe from manning the fields had long since been diminished. "Yeah, Wanda, if it'll make you happy." My hand went limp from her forearm, and Wanda frowned.

"It'll be okay, Ian. Don't worry. Tomorrow isn't even her yet, so there's no use in pouting." She placed a hand on my cheek and the smile returned.

"It's second nature to me, Wanda. I can't help it. So deal." I smiled crookedly and winked.

"Thank you. Now, I guess you've all had a long day, seeing as I haven't had to lift a finger?"

Melanie shrugged. "Used to it."

Jared sighed. "We all need sleep. Let's do just that." Without consulting in Melanie, he trashed their food and stalked out the door. Melanie could only smile halfheartedly at us and follow in his footsteps.

Wanda blushed, most likely blaming herself for their hasty retreat.

"We should go, too, Wanda." She made a feeble attempt to slide of my lap, making a point of not wanting to. I could've laughed and danced at the meaning of her slow motions; it meant that my Wanda was back, not so much distant as chirpy, demanding.

Unconsciously, following instincts rather than her expressions, I slid my arms beneath her arms and knees, and carried her bridal-style down the corridors, to our room.

When we reached the red door, I laid her on her feet, moved the door aside, and ushered her in. She walked wordlessly to the two beds—now pushed together—and curled into herself, the usual position until I wrapped my arms around her. Only then, would she find sleep. In my arms. I loved that, and so wished I could somehow rub it in Jared's face that he couldn't _overwhelm _my Wanderer anymore.

I turned my back on the closed door and faced Wanda. She looked disoriented, distraught. Her simple expression reminded me of her unusual fidgeting moments ago. I wound my arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Wanda—" I whispered her name, hoping to keep this a calming conversation.

"Yes, Ian?" she whispered back.

"Was there something wrong at dinner tonight? Were you uncomfortable?"

Confusion, then recollection swept over her face, but she was quick to hide it with confusion again. "No. Why would you think so?"

"Well, ah, you kept fidgeting while I held you…"

"Ian…" She pushed her small fingers to my lips, silencing me. "Don't think anything of it, okay?"

"But—"

"There's nothing wrong. Promise." She forced a yawn—clearly; Wanda never really was one for lying, and she sure wasn't doing it thoroughly now—and sighed, nestling further into my side.

"Wanda, do you really _have _to work the fields tomorrow? If you're not feeling well…"

"Quiet. Sleep now, little Ian…" She sighed again and her hand in mine went limp after a moment. My Wanderer was asleep, leaving me to wonder why she had called me 'little Ian'.

The inevitable sleep brought with it a dream, and I was plunged into a dark hole, musty with rain dew. As I shrunk back into the hole, my elbow grazed against something rough and course. I turned, hit my head, and was immensely glad pain could not be manifested in dreams. What scraped me was a canvas. Not just any canvas with paint smeared in various ways, one of _Wanda's _special pieces. One with a single subject: a baby. It was one of our dreams. Even in the darkness, I knew that's exactly what it held.

"Ian… Little Ian…" Wanda's voice sounded through the cavern. I scrambled to release myself from the hole, more than eager to share my dream with Wanda. Once out, I turned around and noticed it was Wanda's old hole, the storage unit. A spasm rocked through me, and I shrank back from it.

A hand grabbed my wrist from behind me. "Ian…"

"Wanda?" I faced her, ecstatic that I had enough sense to include her in my dream.

She was smiling, hair blonde hair pulled into a loose braid down her back. She'd always begged to cut it off, but I could let that happen. It was much too beautiful. My hands slowly caressed her cheek, then smoothed her bangs away from her intuitive grey eyes.

She leaned on the tips of her toes to kiss me. As we kissed, I faintly felt another fidget from her stomach as it pressed against mine. She sighed, leaning her forehead against my chest. "Wanda, what was that?"

"Hmm?" The rest came out muffled.

"Wanda, you're fidgeting again."

"Does it matter?"

A million retorts came to me then, all of which wouldn't help get an answer. I suppressed the urge to say something smart-ellic and sighed. "Wanda, what aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know yet, Ian. Not yet." She twisted my hand and kissed the back of it before smiling and placing a small, palm sized canvas into the hole, where it was stored among others in my confusing dream.

"Ian!" The covers were pulled aside, away from my shivering form. Wanda sat beside me, rolling her eyes, hogging the very covers that were taken from me. "The day's wasting, Ian, and we have to work the fields!"

"Don't remind me," I groaned into my pillow. "Just sleep a little while longer. Please, Wanda? For me?" There was a sigh, a shifting of the mattress, and I felt a slight pressure on my back. I arched my neck and looked behind me. Wanda was sitting on me. Modestly, as expected of her, of course. She held her knees to her chin, smirking.

"I won't budge until you agree to get up." Her defiance was steady, firm.

"Wanda, your weight isn't anything to project as weaponry. Sorry." I smiled to myself.

"Worth a try, hmm?"

"Wanda, may I hold you?" I could've laughed at how fast she scrambled from her position on my back to sit by until I sat up. She immediately leapt into my lap and smiled. My arms wrapped around her, pulling her in for a hugging embrace.

"Of course," she whispered against my chest.

"Thank you… Is there any way I could possibly _bribe_ you not to work the—"

She stiffened under my hold. "No."

I sighed. "Fine, just keep to your promise, okay? It'll give me piece of mind…"

"Of course, Ian. Whatever you want."

"Then we should probably get some breakfast and get started on the- the f- fields…"

"Okay." She fumbled to release herself from me and I didn't resist. I knew we needed to head out soon, and I wouldn't let Wanda and I be the butt of everyone's jokes this morning. We walked silently to the 'cafeteria' and sat at Melanie and Jared's table.

Jared smirked at our arrival, Melanie raised her eyebrows at Wanda, who smiled faintly and took a seat on my lap. I stared at her, shocked; she'd never taken it upon herself to situate herself on me—in view of the public. When she caught me staring, she could only smile and lace her fingers with mine.

"Good morning, Wanda. Ian." Jared nodded to both of us and turned back to his tasteless oatmeal.

Melanie giggled. I followed her gaze and back to Wanda. She was… mouthing something? Whatever it was, it must've been pretty funny. Melanie couldn't contain herself; she kept snorting and wheezing (once or twice Jared had to pat her back to keep her from choking).

"Mel?" Jared asked.

"I'm…alright…"—cough, cough—"Just Wanda being…"—cough—"Funny."

Wanda shot up from my lap, giggling. She went to a box on the farthest counter and came back with a small bottle of hiking water. "Here, Mel. Don't choke."

Melanie still couldn't stop laughing. I felt sorry for her. What could Wanda have said that could be so _funny_?

We left the cafeteria, not entirely sure what next to do. Melanie's laughing fit had long turned into a hushed giggle, as it had first started.

We finally made it to the green room and each picked our tools. I gave Wanda a small pick, only to get a pointed glare and roll of the eyes. I granted her a few feet of space, hoping not too seem too overprotective. I failed miserably. Every few minutes, I'd look back and watch her for any sign of discomfort, pain, nausea… Nothing. I kept locking eyes with Melanie too. We both silently agreed to watch her, pass off observations of anything seemed off. Nothing did. Wanda was weeding and picking just fine, only stopping to wipe the sweat from her eyes and face.

Eventually, my worry for her safety eased, and I focused my attention on the newly turned soil. It wasn't long after that my thoughts were solely centered on getting the job done. I was completely immersed in my chore.

"Ian?" a tiny voice called from behind me. I didn't think. I immediately turned, throwing my pick aside. Wanda was doubled over, clutching her stomach. Pain. I gauged her expression. Complete pain. Something I tried so hard to avoid.

I ran to her, hearing Melanie's footsteps trail behind, then Jared's. Wanda reached out to me, and I picked her up bridal-style, as always. "Ian, Doc knows. Go there." She was panting, not making sense of her words. She kept sobbing out apologies. I ignored them, knowing only I could be held responsible for her present state.

"Wanda—"

"Don't."

"But—"

"_No._"

I sighed. If she won't listen, fine. I'd apologize later. In my arms, she was breathing hard and flexing her ankles. The movements caught my eye, and I sucked in a sharp breath. They had swollen! How? What had she done that could've caused such? I needed to find Doc fast. Hopefully, he was still in his office.

We reached Doc's office and Melanie rushed forward to open the door for me. "Ian, I want you and Jared out," she whispered against my shirt.

I was shocked, appalled. How could she expect me to leave her be when she so obviously needed me? I couldn't see her motives. Giving her an answer, I shook my head fiercely. Wanda looked embarrassed, sad. What was wrong with my presence here? Why couldn't I be here with her? To help her?

Doc gasped at the sight of us and ordered Melanie and Jared out. Wanda's chin jutted out and she reached Mel's hand. "Mel stays. Ian? Please?" She stared into my eyes and I could've cried. I didn't want to leave her alone. Whatever was wrong with her, I wanted to comfort her, reassure her. I knew then and there that working the field wasn't the cause of her present condition. There was something else entirely going on inside her. And hopefully, Doc could identify it.

"Ian, Jared, I'm afraid you'll have to go. I can speak with you privately afterwards if you'd like, Ian."

"No!" Wanda's voice was thin and weak, obviously on the verge of a fainting spell. I kissed her forehead and set her on one of Doc's cots.

He bent over her, examined her eyes, heart rate, pulse…

Jared walked out, giving me a look of worry and concern. Pity he won't be here to find out what was wrong with Wanda. I know _I _will. Doc won't make me leave.

"Ian." Doc's voice was strained, forceful. "Seems something extraordinary is at work, and you mustn't e here at the moment." He waved me off, turning back to Wanda, who was throwing daggers at me. I sighed, and kissed her on the cheek. Then I faced Doc.

"You _will_ tell me what's happening. With or without Wanda's consent." With that, I stalked away, not intending for a dramatic exit, but getting one anyway.

Jared met me outside. "Remember yesterday, before the girls walked in? You were asking me something…"

I knew immediately what he was suggesting. No. _No. _it couldn't be possible. Not yet. _Yet. _That was the key word. How could it happen so soon? Yes, we talked it over—briefly—and decided that _someday_ we would make it happen. But how could that day be today? I was utterly mystified by the climaxity of it.

"Jared…No. Not possible."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh? And how _isn't _possible, O'Shea? Please, enlighten me."

I balled my fists. "Fine, Howe. It _is_ possible. But theoretically—"

"Save it, O'Shea. You and I both know your reasons for asking my opinion on the matters of…_children. _He once told me that this world was unfit to bring in a child. Wanda even told me that. But to hear him say it like a profanity didn't seem to sit right with me.

"Jared, I don't want her to be in pain…" I brought my fists to cover the shame in my eyes. I stole a look from Jared and resisted the urge to shape his nose like Kyle's. He was grinning wildly, flashing his eyes.

"Your fault completely, O'Shea. Don't cry over spilled milk." He couldn't stop the laughter that followed and echoed as he walked down the caves.

My knees buckled and I cried. Somehow, I imagined Wanda crying behind the closed door that separated us now. Now, I understand what Doc had meant by 'extraordinary'. How could he have known that fast? Was he that experienced?

Curiosity passed through me and I leaned my ear to the door. "—what are you say, Eustace?" Hearing Doc's real name always startled me. It was such a foreign name now, so unused by the latest majority of humans.

"Wanda, you _are_ carrying a child. And right now, I can probably tell what the sex is, if you're curious." I held my breath. She _wouldn't. _I then remembered that Melanie was still in there, being granted permission to hear such news. I wanted so badly to break down the door and run to Wanda's side.

There was a long pause. Then Wanda let out a sigh. "No. I'd like to find out when Ian's in here, please."

"Of course, Wanda. Would you like to stay here, or go back? Either way, I want you resting in a _bed_. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she answered, her voice shaky.

"Melanie, why don't you go get Ian, hmm?"

I heard footsteps and rushed to put as much distance between me and the door as possible. Melanie opened the door and stuck her head out. "I won't tell Wanda if you don't tell Jared," she whispered.

"Tell him what?"

"Oh, the nerve! Just don't say anything about Jenny, okay? He'll know exactly what you're talking about if you mention it." She pushed the door open to the fullest capacity and stomped past me, in the direction Jared had taken.

"Ian…" I shot up and practically ran into the room. Wanda was laying on her side, curled into a ball, crying silently.

Once at her side, I kneeled and brushed my lips to her tears. "I'm here, sweetie, I'm here." I kept reassuring that it would be alright, we'd overcome whatever it was—yes, at that moment I had to pretend I had no idea.

Doc cleared his throat. "Ah, be careful, Wanda. No sudden movements. Ian, you can move her to her room now. Rest easily, Wanda. And drink lots of fluids!" He frantically pushed a water bottle in her hands and smiled.

"C'mon, honey." I slid my arms beneath her and carried her away from Doc's room. We said nothing the whole way there. I kept glancing nervously down at my Wanderer. She stared at the rocky floor absently as we walked. I wished I could know just for one _second_ what was going on inside her pretty little right now. Right then, I envied Melanie for her short time with that.

Wanda clutched at my neck when we reached the red door, and I couldn't bring myself to deny her. I sighed and supported her with one arm, while the other—magically—moved the door. Content, she smiled up at me. I could only repay her with the same.

I walked to Wanda's side of the bed and gently unlocked her grip on my shirt. She whimpered and reached for me again; it reminded me of a child, a very beautiful child with all too innocent eyes, yet all too mature. I climbed in beside her and she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around me and bury her head in the crook of my neck. I groaned. Why is she delaying the inevitable? Why can't she tell me what Doc had said? I wanted to hear it from her. _Only_ her.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Wanda…what did Doc tell you?" I whispered as softly as my burning curiosity could muster.

I felt her stiffen under my hold. "Ian…there's…there's…" I could hear the next volley of tears in her voice. Was she sad? Scared? ...Happy…?

"Wanda?" I pressed.

"Oh, Ian!" She tightened her arms around my neck and sobbed louder. "We—we…."

"Shh." I rubbed her back and hummed in her ear. She just needed comfort, that was all. And I gladly took the position to do so.

"No. I _want_ to tell you." She leaned back a little and rubbed at her eyes, whipping away her ever-flowing tears.

"I'll be patient," I whispered, brushing her bangs away.

"Ian, I'm…We're going to… have a baby…?"

The way she said it sounded like a question. I smiled at her lovingly and kissed her forehead. This news seemed even more exciting than what'd I'd heard from Doc. I loved the way she said the confirmation of our 'dream'.

"That's wonderful, baby. Do you know what it is yet?"

She glanced nervously at her hands and shrugged sheepishly. "I told Doc I wanted to wait for you to be there," she mumbled.

My smile grew wider. "Thank you, Wanda. Thank you so much." I kissed her cheek, feeling the blush heating there beneath my touch.

"Well," she said cheekily, "_I _didn't really contribute much." She chuckled a little and was lost in her own memories. I was reminded of what Jared has said. The sick humor he had brought up.

"Wanda, if Doc can tell what the sex is, then why can't we tell you're pregnant?" I was suddenly alert, wondering why it couldn't _really_ add up.

But Wanda just smiled. "Doc said that was alright. That some petite woman had that kind of…situation. I think there used to be a human television show that went along those lines…"

"Yeah, there was. But Wanda, how could Doc _tell_?"

She waved my inquiry away. "He performed a small ultrasound. Mel and I had gotten—" She stopped and clamped her jaws together.

But my interest was already piqued. What had she and Melanie gotten? Had she planned this? Known?

"Wanda, did you get Doc the supplies beforehand? On a raid?"

She looked away. I pulled her chin so that I could look into her grey eyes. "Did you?"

"Yeah, I did. I've known. And Mel covered me."

"How long have you known, sweetie?"

"Nearly three to four months…"

I was shocked. She'd known for three months, more or less, and that didn't really include the time before she'd found out. She could be anywhere along the 'gestation period'. The question that could really confirm the month was slipping off my tongue and I _really _didn't want to ask it.

Somehow, she knew _exactly_ what I was about to say; I didn't have to risk any embarrassment on my behalf. "Ian, it was five months ago. Oh, don't look so sick! It happens—happened—all the time and you never noticed!"

"I know… Sorry." I squirmed and tried to look away. Wanda caught my cheek and gently pulled me back.

"Please don't act that way. It's not gentlemanly."

"God forbid I forget to act chivalrous," I mumbled into her hair, just realizing I had buried my face there to hide the embarrassing shame.

Wanda laughed. "Ian, we're having a baby."

It sounded exactly like music, the kind you hear in a baby's laugh. I loved that way she said it—'_sang'_ it. "I know, sweetheart, I know. And you're sure it's healthy being so…"

"Unnoticed?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, Doc said he wanted me to regularly check in with him. So he could keep up with the baby's growth patterns and stuff."

"Of course." Then a thought came to me. "Wanda?"

"Hmm?"

"Who's Jenny?"

Wanda cowered closer to me and sighed. "Earlier today, in the bathing rooms… Mel and I were discussing… baby names. She, ah, also…"

I laughed inwardly. Melanie becoming pregnant just seemed so… hilarious. I stifled the raging giggles for Wanda's sake. "I get it."

"And she hasn't told Jared yet, so don't say anything that'll make him think ok?" _Oh no._

I averted the subject elsewhere before she could press for more. "And did _you_ decide anything? For baby names, I mean?"

She mumbled into my shirt and shook her head.

"Okay, we'll decide later. Would you like something to eat? Drink? I'm going back down to the cafeteria to get some food. I'll be back in a bit, okay, sweetie?"

She nodded and sighed, slowly releasing herself from my neck and shirt. "Hurry back, please," she whispered in a small voice.

I smiled and kissed her hand. "Always." Then I did something I didn't plan on doing. I knelt down to her flat stomach and pressed my forehead to it, where our little baby was hopefully growing healthy and strong. "Be back soon, little baby," I crooned. I looked up at Wanda, who was smiling goofily and shaking her head.

"I'd would only like some water, please. Doc said I needed lots of fluids so I wouldn't get dehydrated."

I nodded. "Of course." Then I stood and left our room, my Wanderer, and our little baby, hoping lines weren't too long. They weren't, miraculously, and I swiftly got the bread and water Wanda had requested, along with a few snags of granola bars I had stashed behind the counter.

Jamie strode in with Jeb, looking as happy and carefree as ever. He smiled at me and waved. I waved back, wishing I could stay and talk with him about his upcoming 'nephew' or 'niece', but I knew Wanda would be waiting for me. The bond that formed between him and Wanda in the beginning hasn't wavered since her insertion in a new body.

I smiled at them as I left, passing Nathanael and Burns on the way. I briefly nodded at them, not wanting to get sidetracked.

When I came to our room, I found Wanda sleeping in a tight ball, her back to me. I silently padded through the room to her side and bent to my knees. "Wanda?" I whispered softly in her ear. She groaned and rolled so that her face was masked by the pillow. I tapped her shoulder—lightly.

"Ian, if I were you, I'd slowly back away," she growled, too soft to make a point. "Consider yourself warned."

I laughed. How could she have gotten so aggressive in the few minutes we were apart? Was that one of her many symptoms?

"Wanda, I brought you water… You should drink some of it. Doc said—"

"I know what Doc said." Her subtle protesting was funny. And by me thinking her as funny, well, obviously it was a death sentence. I nudged the covers from over her head and smiled. Her face was still hidden in the pillow, and I gradually eased it out from under her. Wanda's head jerked down and she whined. "Ian, if you don't give me back my essentials, I swear to you that this will be _the_ last baby you'll _ever_ conceive."

"By whose standards?"

"How about yours? Aren't there forceful ways to prevent pregnancy? Mel told me human men did that all the time." Heat rose to my cheeks, and I forced myself to look her head on.

"Doc can't force me to do anything I don't want to do."

"Maybe not while you're conscious. Now, _sedating_ on the other hand…"

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Wanda! You're fighting pretty darn dirty for a nice, loving soul- no pun intended."

"Deal. Pregnancy is already becoming a hassle and without my pillow and blanket, I'll make you suffer right along with me."

I smiled and handed her 'essentials' and climbed in bed beside her. She rolled and faced me, kissed my nose, and closed her eyes. I followed, and it wasn't much longer until sleep brought dreams. Dreams of Wanda and I holding our 'little Ian'.

_It won't be much longer, _I thought, as I surrounded myself in just those dreams, waiting for the moment when they would become a reality.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

There _will_ be three chapters total- the first being their agreement to want a child, the second being... the finality of it, the climax, if you will, and the third being the delivery. Of course. I hope you get to finsih it!

By the few reviews I've gotten so far, I can tell there's _something_ good going on with this. Thank you for the excellant reviews! Please, stay tuned for the last installment. =3


	3. Our Little One

Wanda was undergoing pain, even in her sleep. I tried to convince Doc to sedate her, give her something, but he refused, claiming it could hurt the baby. Wanda refused it, too, saying it was too silly and she wanted to have the full experience of a human pregnancy. I had stared at them both, too shocked to do much else. How could Wanda _want_ that? In all retrospect, though, how could _any_ woman want that? It was completely beyond me. I didn't want Wanda in agony, but we had agreed that was what we _both _wanted. And still do.

Wanda was more or less eight months along, her belly bulging more now. She was feeling more and more of the discomfort now that she was nearly ready. It could be soon. Unpredictable, as Doc had said when we'd visited him to deliver it then—it was a frequent event on Wanda's part.

I watched Wanda sleep; her jerking and fidgeting seemed too irrelevant, as if there were no possible way to be comfortable. I wanted to comfort her, help her find a peaceful sleep, but I didn't want to jeopardize what little she found _now_.

I sung softly in her ear, remembering the tune of an old lullaby my own mother used to sing to me and Kyle. She murmured in her sleep after a moment and sighed. Under the covers, with my hand lying limp on her slightly bulging stomach, I felt a kick. A hushed cry erupted from Wanda's lips and she abruptly clung to my arm. I knew she had woken just by the one movement, and I gradually leaned down so I could kiss her forehead.

"Ian?" She whispered.

"Yes, Wanda?"

"Please… _Please._" I knew what was coming: Wanda had been begging, pleading with Doc to induce the inevitable labor. He always denied her and gave the same excuse—the fetus (baby) wasn't ready for delivery yet. And Wanda would cry into me from the finality of it. "Please, Ian. Please take me to Doc."

"No, Wanda, you know what he'll say."

She was bawling, whispering a few profanities in between sobs. I really hoped they weren't targeted at me. I sat and rubbed her back as she cried. And our night went on like that.

Pleading, begging, cursing, then refusal. There was nothing else I could do but sit and _attempt_ to comfort her.

By morning, she eventually cried herself to sleep on my shoulder, and I gently laid her back down on the mattress. Hopefully, I could've gone to the cafeteria and back with some water and food for her without her noticing my absence. I eased myself out of the bed and out the door, softly pushing it back into place.

Jared was saving me a seat at our regular countertop, and he smirked at my disheveled appearance. I imagined what his nose would like in Kyle's fashion for the millionth time that week.

"Get a wink of sleep?"

I sighed. "No. Wanda couldn't sleep."

Jared laughed. "Mel can't have any. She got scared when seeing Wanda."

I flinched. He didn't know yet. Mel hadn't told him. The coward.

We continued our breakfast by passing stupid jokes and insulting one-another in a brotherly fashion. Afterwards, I swiped a bottle of water and walked swiftly out of the room, taking to the dense tunnels that lead to our room.

I slid the red door aside and, with my back still turned from the bed, closed the door again. I turned around, expecting to see Wanda's sleeping form, instead finding her sitting up, hugging a pillow to her face. She was rocking back and forth. I ran to her side and curled around her trembling form.

"Shh. Wanda, what's the matter? Do we need Doc?" My voice was urgent, pleading. I kissed her cheek and helped her to her feet.

"Ian." Her own voice was hardly audible. I strained to hear her next words. But I could've heard it underwater for how scared I was. "He's ready, Ian. Please." She was panting, gasping for breath.

I immediately picked her up and made a grab for the door. I don't know how, but I managed to get her to Doc's without breaking stride. Doc's door was open—a convenience—and I hurried in without warning. Doc jumped at the sight of Wanda in my arms and fluttered for his tools.

"Wanda? Are you alright?"

I ignored Doc's instructions to let him handle her and laid her on a cot myself. "She said he's ready, Doc."

"Wanda, I need you to tell me about the, ah, contractions. You _are_ having contractions, right?"

She nodded, not completely here, listening. I brushed her bangs aside and kissed her temple.

"Do I need to leave, Doc?"

He shook his head, not breaking his hold on Wanda's stomach. "Would you go get Trudy, please? She may be able to help me…"

The thought of having someone as distant as _Trudy_ touch Wanda in the manner of _helping_ angered me. "_No." _

"Ian, don't be difficult. Wanda either needs you here, or going to get other support. Now, which is it?"

"Here, of course!" I knelt beside Wanda; she was sweating and gasping. This was exactly what I'd wanted to avoid. Partly the reason I had always agreed with taking her to Doc so many times before.

Doc took a square of No Pain and brought it to her lips. She hesitantly opened her mouth and took the offering. Abruptly, Wanda stopped shaking and relaxed her grip on my hand. "Ian, be here, okay?"

"Of course, honey. Right here." I stroked the sweat from her forehead and smiled. Doc brought out a cloth and gently, slowly, pressed it over Wanda's face. She sighed, and closed her eyes, losing consciousness. By the time she would wake up, she would be offered her baby, be it a boy or a girl—we didn't want to know, we wanted it to be a surprise.

Doc suggested a C-section. I happily agreed, seeing as Wanda wouldn't be able to otherwise, considering she was unconscious anyway. But I shuttered at the thought of slicing her delicate stomach. Doc balanced the small knife on the bare skin of her rounded belly and pressed down slightly. That was enough; the skin broke and blood trickled down the slope. I bit my tongue and turned from the sight—I wasn't needed then anyway.

It took a few moments, but Doc was experienced. He slid his hands into the contours of Wanda's stomach and tugged gently on the baby inside. I could only hear the procedure taking place. Then, the soft cry of our baby could be heard, and that was enough to squander and nausea I had then felt.

"Ian, grab the Awake. I want Wanda to see her."

Her. _Her. _I couldn't describe what I felt.

"Now, Ian!"

I did as asked, and sprayed the grapefruit scent beneath Wanda's nose. A second passed, then her eyes fluttered open and she looked around dazed.

Doc was fuming. "Ian, give her to Wanda while I seal the incision." He gingerly, yet firmly, placed the little female in my arms. Despite the bloody, milky substance surrounding our child, I adored the feel of her—so soft and tiny, like her mother, _Wanda_, that is. Not Pet. Her eyes were closed, and she was softly crying. She had silky black hair, very pale skin—from what I could tell—but sadly, I couldn't see that eyes.

It didn't take Wanda long to locate me, then down to my arms, at the tiny infant that was hers. She immediately opened her arms and reached. I couldn't deny her, yet I wanted so much to keep the baby there, in my own grasp.

Doc sighed. I looked down at Wanda's stomach, expecting to see the open gash, but instead finding a sealed, faint pink seam. Those Soul meds really did work wonders.

"Wanda," Doc whispered as he turned to face her head on. "You and Ian have borne a girl. I don't have the, ah, proper items for such a legit subject, but I am curious. What will you name her?"

I sighed. For eight months, neither Wanda nor I have suggested anything like that. Nothing came to mind. Absolutely nothing. I felt horribly guilty, but Wanda smiled and placed a hand on my cheek, the other still cradled the baby to her chest. "Pet has a memory… about a book. About a pig and spider."

I instantly caught on. "_Charlotte's Web_? What about it?"

"Well, I was curious. And on a raid, Mel and I got a few books… They were for Jamie and his reading, of course, but I read one of them. It was the one you mentioned. Well, the spider, Charlotte, had a last name of Cavattica. Do you like that?"

"I think it suits her. Of course I like it."

Doc threw a towel at me and I gently rubbed the infant of her silky residue. She was asleep, but instantly woke at the slightest touch. When her eyes opened, I gasped. They were the exact color Wanda had wanted. I preferred her own grey iris, but she insisted that sapphire blue would make her perfect. And it did. The lovely gems gazed solely at me; they seemed knowing, intuitive. But there was something else that made them even more infinite: a tiny ring of silver was etched in between the iris and pupil, displaying the beauty of her mother. I kissed her forehead, adoring her. I crooned her name over and over again.

Wanda fondled with the black tuft of her on Cavattica's head. "Beautiful… like her father," she whispered in a soft voice.

I looked at her, remembering her presence. "Tiny… like her mother," I whispered back. We sat in silence until Doc cleared his throat.

"Well, ah, seems we have some prying eyes afoot."

We both turned our head to the sight of our family watching us intently. Melanie, Jamie, and Jared all stood in front of the crown in the threshold.

Jamie had a smile stretching across his face. Jared had a hand on his shoulder, Melanie's on the other. A restraint. How long had they been there? Finally, Jamie couldn't stand it. He rushed over to Wanda's other side and hugged her.

"It didn't hurt did it? Jeb said birth was the closest thing to death. He and Jared wouldn't let me come and watch though. We all had to stay outside, waiting. I didn't like it. Mel kept crying. I think I bothered Jared to the point of muteness." He then looked down at the small bundle anchored between both Wanda's and my own arms. "So it's a girl? That's cool. I didn't want a nephew anyway. But I would've been if you'd had one, Wanda! Don't be upset! I'm glad with whatever it is. Promise. Can I hold her?"

Wanda, the oh, so self-sacrificial one, went to hand our baby over to the boy's waiting arms, but I felt a small protectiveness in my hold on her. One look from Wanda and I didn't resist. Jamie carefully slid his arms around Cavattica and cooed at the sight of her. "So what'd ya name her?"

"Cavattica O'Shea," Wanda whispered.

"Woah, you mean the spider? That's cool. Mel's sticking to a 'J' name. I think that's cool, too, since my name does, and Jared's and Jeb's."

I heard a gasp, and felt a huge relief. Melanie looked at Jamie as if she was measuring the exact angles a choke-hold would fit. Jared ushered her in and shut the door on everyone else. There was a knock, but he ignored it and sat down on the farthest cot. "What is he talking about?" he asked in his harsh voice.

Melanie laced her fingers together and snorted. "Isn't it obvious? And I thought you were smart. I'm pregnant, Jared. Is that dumbed down enough for ya?"

He only stared at her. Then, slowly, a smile crept over his usually hard features. "That's great, Mel! When are you due?"

She mumbled something incoherent. He nudged her shoulder. "Four months."

He laughed. "I can't wait, Mel! Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged out of her heavy parka—an obvious tool to hide her perfectly rounded stomach, no doubt—and showed him the evidence. "You would've freaked."

And he did. With hysteria, of course. Doc had to haul him out, along with a giggly Melanie. I sighed, happy to be alone with my family.

"So Ian," Jamie's voice rang loudly as he leaned in closer, cautiously offering our baby to Wanda again. "Where do babies come from?"

"Ah… hasn't Jeb or Jared ever told you…?" He nodded, grinning like a madman. "Well," I mumbled, stealing a glance at Wanda. She was utterly enjoying this. I'd get her back later. "Um, then… you know, right?"

"Oh, yeah! I know! Is that why Mel and Jared kicked me out before Wanda's insertion?" He looked at me expectantly.

I grinned. This was my chance to get back at _them_. "Go ask them. I'm sure they'll love telling you."

He nodded eagerly and stormed off, leaving me, Wanda, and our little daughter alone. I leaned down beside Wanda and Cavattica, and laid my head to rest on her arm.

"Ian?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you happy?"

"There is no limit to the happiness, the content, that I feel now," I whispered.

"I agree." And she ran her small fingers through my hair, lulling my eyes to drift tiredly. I sighed at the comfort. "Ian? Will you sing to us?"

I smiled to myself. "Whatever you want, sweetie." And I hummed the very tune I sung last night. I looked to Cavattica, my lovely child, and watched as her eyes slowly close. Then Wanda, tired from the whole eight months—what should have been nine— give in to the sleep. It wasn't long after until I followed suit. I didn't dream. No, I was living our dream. We'd been dreaming of ours for nearly a year now, give or take a few months, and I was gratified with the knowledge that I didn't need to live off simple imaginings that didn't necessarily need to be found through sleep.

Wanda's hand was still held in mine as I drifted.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And so, it tis be finished. I feel sad, now. What can i write now? As always, the inspiration is completely absent and I _so_ desperately want to write more about our favorite Host couple. Ideas? Yea, they're wlecome. Always.

Thank you to the kind people who reviewed my story. Without them, I don't think I would've continued this,really. In the beginning, I didn't really see the point. But thank you anyway! **=3** ,

I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it!


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